


mind and body

by ghettoblasterz



Category: Merrily We Roll Along - Sondheim/Furth
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kitchen Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Old Friends, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, Sex Addiction, Therapy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but bad therapy, charley is kind of an asshole :/, charley needs frank to learn how to dom and they execute this very poorly, frank isnt perfect either, fun times, yall already know who it is!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoblasterz/pseuds/ghettoblasterz
Summary: charley has issues. many issues. but instead of handling them the way his therapist suggests, he chooses to cope in the best way he knows how; sex. frank isn't equipped to give charley what he needs.tl;drcharley and frank do not belong together, and that thought is exhilarating.
Relationships: Charley Kringas/Franklin Shepard, Charley Kringas/Franklin Shepard/Mary Flynn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	mind and body

**Author's Note:**

> hello bitches i am back on my bullshit with another superbly horny fic
> 
> this one might get a part 2 idk

Charley hadn't realized he'd never felt love before until the affair.

Sure, he'd felt familial love. He'd felt platonic love. Just not romantic love, it turned out. His perception of affection and sex was completely different than Frank Shepard's.

The first time he and Frank had fucked was incredibly awkward, filled with nervous movements and a very pushy, horny Charley. They were on Charley's bed; Charley, clad only in a sweatshirt, laid on his back near the edge, with a mostly clothed Frank between his legs, holding his thighs.

Frank was _petrified_ that he'd accidentally hurt Charley or give the runt anal prolapse, no matter how many times Charley told him that he'd fucked enough cocks to breed a henhouse.

Charley wrapped his legs around Frank's waste and mumbled. "Just do it, man."

"Don't you need to…? Um, I don't know--"

He'd been prepping himself all morning. Frank needed to stop questioning him before he lost his mind.

"What's it matter? I'm telling you to do it, so you'd better fucking do it."

Frank squeezed Charley's thigh. He inhaled slowly. "I don't want to hurt you," he said, his voice stoic and quiet.

_That isn't true. You're so scared._

"What if I want you to? Huh?"

So Charley was silent the whole time, letting Frank cautiously thrust into him until he came no matter how mediocre the whole ordeal was. He jacked off in the bathroom afterwards with thoughts of a more exciting encounter running rampant through his unhinged, horny mind.

It never occurred to him that Frank's concerns could be genuine.

Charley was unlike any lover Frank had ever had. Of course, Charley was also the first man he'd ever messed around with, as well as his oldest friend. But as soon as the pair became a _pair_ , Charley completely changed.

He'd wince at the slightest touch to his waist. Frank had to announce himself before laying so much as a finger on him or he'd swing around with his fists in the air.

"Relax," Frank would cry, his arms raised in submission. "It's just me, Charley!"

Charley would breathe, "You scared me," and turn back to what he was doing without a kind look in return.

As usual, it terrified poor Frank.

He was so distant, yet so clingy at the same time. Charley wouldn't so much as talk to Frank for hours, but the minute Frank gave him a sour glance he'd burst into tears, ranting about how he was the worst person to ever cross the face of the Earth, and how he didn't deserve Frank. Or anything, for that matter.

Frank would pull him into his chest and let him sob, reassuring him that that was far from the truth. But Charley never seemed to believe him, because the outbursts happened every single week, sometimes more than once.

What really concerned Frank was the way his mood could shift in a heartbeat. Even after sobbing and shaking all day, as soon as Charley had Frank stripped and in bed, he'd remove his glasses, straddle Frank's thigh, and kiss his neck until Frank returned the favor, pawing at his skin and whining for attention. Frank didn't at all mind intimacy, but didn't want to enforce Charley's behavior patterns, either.

Charley ground his hips against Frank's bare thigh. "Kiss me?" he asked, pressing his forehead against Frank's.

Frank obliged, wrapping an arm around his waist and cupping his other hand against Charley's cheek.

They continued for a minute or so, before Charley leaned down nipped at Frank's neck again; Frank laid back and rested his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation.

"Fuck me," Charley mumbled near his ear.

Frank's eyes popped open. "No, not tonight."

"Please?" Charley whined, propping himself up on his palms.

"Charley."

"Frank."

"Tomorrow," Frank decided.

Charley huffed and laid down on Frank's chest. He threaded his fingers through his boyfriend's, staring at their hands intertwined with his blurry vision.

"You _always_ say tomorrow."

"Can't you take no for an answer?"

"I...I'm sorry," Charley said.

"When...When's the last time you slept, Charley?"

The next morning, Frank woke up to Charley kneeling between his legs, his curls knotted from sleep. His glasses still sat on the nightstand.

Last night had been eventful. They'd come to a compromise.

"Morning, sunshine," Frank giggled. "How long have you been down there?"

"Not too long. Wanted to wake you up with your dick in my mouth, but you beat me."

Charley was eyeing up his cock like it belonged in a museum. Frank decided a morning blowjob wouldn't necessarily be the _worst_ thing in the world.

"Hope you don't mind," Charley said with a smile. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around Frank's cock, his eyelids fluttering at the way Frank's body tensed at his touch.

This was _power_. This was everything.

Frank shook his head. "Not one bit."

Charley winked up at him, pressing his lips against his tip and spitting along it before sticking out his tongue, flat against his cock.

Charley was damn good at sex. Frank could at least give him that, no matter how crazy anything else he did seemed.

Their sex gradually got better as Charley forced Frank out of his comfort zone and into the depths of his fantasies. Frank didn't feel the need to be so careful anymore. Clearly, Charley could take it. Who was Frank to deprive him of what he needed?

But still, Charley wasn't quite satisfied. Frank had no clue what else he could possibly want; he was fucking him until they both came, holding him close, bending him over every goddamn surface in the bedroom, yet Charley still wanted _more_.

The emptiness wasn't gone yet. That was Charley's dilemma.

It wasn't until Charley grabbed him by the belt in the kitchen that things changed between them.

They made out against the counter, Charley urging Frank to grope him as they kissed. 

"I'm yours, Frankie," he sighed between breaths, "all yours."

Frank giggled against his lips, grabbing under Charley's knee and pulling his leg up against his side so that he could grind against him. The other groaned at the touch.

"Please," Charley whined, and Frank knew exactly what was coming.

"Charley, wait--I _just_ washed the linens."

"No, no," Charley said, pulling away and staring up into his eyes with a burning intensity. "I want you to bend me over right here and fuck me."

Frank glanced at the faux marble counter.

_Well, that's hardly sanitary._

"I guess we could try it," Frank said with a shrug.

Charley's hands snaked down to his pajama pants, undoing the tie and shoving them down to his ankles. He wasn't wearing underwear. 

Frank looked down at Charley, then down at himself.

How could he say no?

"Do whatever you want with me," Charley huffed as Frank returned, "I want you to be in charge."

Frank spun him around and bent him over the counter. Charley whined at the blunt coldness against his now bare front.

_Yes yes yes yes yes this is it this is what I need_

He heard the cap of the lube bottle in Frank's grasp pop open.

"Use me, Frankie. Use me, _please_ , I've never needed cock more badly in my life."

"Just...however?" Frank asked from behind him.

Charley folded his arms under his head. "Mhm. Oh, don't give me that face. I _know_ you've fantasized about rough sex. All men do."

"Hm. That's a generalization," Frank corrected. 

Charley felt two cold fingers press against his hole, soaked with lube. He grinned.

"Mm--well, I know when I piss you off you want to hate-fuck me. I see it in your eyes. I feel it in you."

"So _that's_ what you want?" Frank asked, pressing his fingers a little further forward. "You want me to hate-fuck you?" 

"Whatever you want to call it. I need it hard. I want you to hurt me."

Frank seemed to ignore the thought and pushed the digits inside Charley. Charley moaned in agreement, pushing back against his hand as he made sure Charley was slick enough to take him. It hurt just enough to be drowned out by Charley's eagerness.

After a few minutes of prep, Charley heard the lube bottle crack open again.

"I've...never done anything like this before," Frank admitted.

"Obviously. No other man I've had has been so timid, Frank! Look--all I'm asking for is total domination of my mind and body. Is that so much to ask for?"

"A little."

"Jesus H Christ, man, just fuck my shit up," Charley snapped, rolling his eyes. "You really don't get it, do you? I need to feel something again, Frankie. I need to take the backseat and let someone else totally control me, however they may see fit--I don't give a rat's ass."

"But that sounds traumatizing. I don't want to _scar_ you."

"No, no, this is therapy. Frank, I'm ready. You can't scar me more than I already have been.

Frank pursed his lips, but nodded regardless.

And it was everything Charley dreamed of.

Frank thrust into him, leaning over the counter and pinning Charley to the surface with his forearm, his other arm gripping the bottom's flank. His knee was raised, pressed against the edge of the counter; one of the cabinets had opened, and Frank planted his foot atop it for leverage. Beads of sweat formed on the side of Charley's neck where Frank rested his forehead.

It hurt so, so badly; the pain of being fucked in the ass and his rim catching on Frank's cock. Charley loved it. He stared at his glasses, which sat on the edge of the counter, staring back at him.

His knees were beginning to give under him. In need of support, he reached one arm in front of him and gripped the edge of the counter, keeping his head pressed against his forearm, while his right hand gripped the outward edge with the same white-knuckled ferocity.

Frank remained quiet. He grabbed the lube bottle and put more along his cock, before moving an arm up to grip the hair on the nape of Charley's neck. He coiled the curls around his fingers. Charley lived for the faint stinging pain.

He'd most certainly been hurt before, but never in a consensual, pleasurable way like this. He wasn't kidding when he said rough sex was his therapy; as wrong as it may seem to anyone but him, those moments when his mind is clouded with lust are his most peaceful.

Charley had many boyfriends throughout his life, most of which without Frank even knowing. Some of them were good guys, but boring. Some of them were rotten, horrible men who would burn in hell forever once they were finally eradicated. Those were the ones that Charley couldn't remember much about, whether that be a blessing or a curse.

As of that moment, Frank was the best Charley ever had. And God, did that thought feel good.

"Oh my God, Frank," Charley moaned, tightening his fingers around the faux marble. 

"Too much?" Frank breathed, slowing his thrusts.

"Don't you _dare_ stop."

"Don't tell me what to do," Frank hissed near his ear. "Get up on your hands."

Charley grunted, lifting himself on his numb palms. Frank settled a hand around the base of his throat, wrapping his other around Charley's abdomen to jack him off.

Charley was astounded. Too fucked up to put it into words just yet.

"Oh my God oh my God oh my _God_ ," Charley chanted, feebly clawing at the hand around his throat.

"Is this what you wanted? Huh, Charley? Is this how I'm supposed to fuck you?" Frank asked through his teeth, muttering the interrogation into Charley's ear.

"Mhm," Charley whined, "mhm--oh _fuck_ , I'm gonna cum--don't stop the dirty talk--"

Frank lightly tightened his squeeze around Charley's throat, brushing over his Adam's apple with his thumb. He glanced down, watching himself thrust in and out of Charley with ease; the resistance eased thanks to the precum and lube.

"That's it--Take it, _bitch_."

Butterflies fluttered in Charley's stomach. He cried out at the new sensation coupled with his building orgasm. He'd never felt anything quite like this before and he most certainly wanted more of it.

_holy fuck call me a bitch again I wanna be yours_

"I'm your bitch, all for you," Charley repeated, placing his hand over Frank's as he jacked him off.

"Mm, cum for me, Charley," Frank said near his ear. "Show me how good I fuck you."

Charley focused on the burning, desperate pleasure bubbling inside him, whimpering as he felt himself get so close he could reach out and brush his orgasm with the tip of his fingers. His palms balled into fists as he came, cumming on the counter as Frank fucked him through his high. The abuse to his prostate amplified the feeling by tenfold.

Charley gasped, his eyes screwing shut. "Cum in me, Frankie," he whined, swallowing hard. He felt his Adam's apple push against Frank's hand.

He could feel Frank's hesitation. He'd always pull out when he fucked Charley, or have vaginal sex with women where he couldn't cum inside unless he wanted a baby on his hands.

"Please."

"Get back down on the counter," Frank ordered.

Charley bent his stiff elbows and lowered himself back to the faux marble. He winced at the idea of laying in cum, but complied anyways out of a desperate need for the pleasure to continue. Frank grabbed his arms and pinned them against his back with his forearm again, leaning over him as he used him and mumbled in his ear.

“Want me to cum in you? Hm?”

The cold counter against Charley’s cock made him shiver with overstimulation. “Y--yes,” he breathed, trying to force the words out.

“Think you can take it? Beg for it, bitch.”

_use me use me use me use me use me hurt me_

Charley cried out, craning his neck against the marble. He shifted his arms against his back. “Pleasepleaseplease cum in me, I’ve been so good,” he whimpered.

Frank huffed a laugh. “Yes, yes you have. Now be good and stay still.”

He continued to thrust into the bottom, who whined with each attack against his prostate. He felt the pressure building inside of him again, urging him to scream. He writhed again under Frank, desperate to exude some of the energy pent up within him.

Frank pressed down harder on his arms. Charley could feel by the shallowness of his thrusts that he was very close. Charley tried to free himself.

Frank reached up with his left hand and grabbed Charley by the hair. “I fucking told you to stay still.”

Charley’s breath hitched in his throat. He froze in submission.

"Good boy, Charley."

A few moments later, Frank was spilling inside him, grunting at the unmatched sensation. Charley whimpered in relief and ground his hips back against Frank’s; this time, the other didn’t seem to mind.

“Fuck,” Frank said as he finished. His voice was hoarse, and he sounded quite exhausted. "Felt so good, Charley. You did so good."

He pulled out and sat up on his palms. “You, uh...you okay?”

Charley brought his arms back to his sides. They’d lost almost all feeling.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled.

Frank laughed, pulling his knee off the counter and grimacing at the way his joints cracked in response. Charley sat up on his elbows and inhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. He could feel the cum oozing down his thigh.

“Hope that was okay. I...I was kinda nervous.”

“Couldn’t tell,” Charley smiled.

Frank pulled his boxers back on and moved to the kitchen sink to wash his sweaty hands. “Did...did you mean the whole ‘domination is therapy’ deal? Or was that just an in-the-moment kinda thing?”

Charley stood up and huffed, the jizz running down his thigh. “Why would I lie?” His chest was horribly sticky with his own. He winced, grabbing his glasses and sliding them onto the bridge of his nose. “Paper towel, please?”

Frank wet a paper towel and tossed it his way. Clearly, he had nothing else to say. Charley hardly protested; after getting the life fucked out of you, sometimes it takes your brain a minute to catch up.

He felt content. The scratchy, demanding little voice in his brain shut the fuck up for a bit.

"Need anything?" Frank asked, drying off his hands.

"A shower," Charley scoffed. "And a cig."

"Could I shower with you? You know, to save water?"

Charley shot him a glare. "Fine. But no funny business. I gotta sit over the drain and get your cum out of my ass."

_You asked for it, whore._

Charley massaged his temple. The sub drop was kicking in already, it seemed.

Frank blinked, running a hand through his hair. "Fun."

"Oh, tell me about it, Shepard."

  
  



End file.
